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hadn’t even told her about Drew yet, and this would be a baptism of fire. But as Drew’s father he couldn’t think of anyone he would trust more with his son. He’d seen Jessica at work. He’d heard her colleagues talk about her.

      She was undoubtedly a great doctor, who cared about her patients.

      He was supposed to be taking Jessica out for dinner in a few nights’ time. He’d been hoping to tell her about Drew then, and also to explain why evening dates could prove to be difficult. After a day of work he really didn’t like to ask someone to babysit his son. He wanted to spend time with him. And he was hopeful that Jess would understand that. But now that would all have to wait.

      Within minutes he had Drew bundled up into his booster seat, still in his pyjamas and wrapped in a fleecy blanket.

      The roads were coated with snow and deadly quiet. Anyone with a half a brain was tucked up in bed. The only other traffic on the roads at this time of night was the gritters. He made it to the hospital in record time, parked in one of the emergency bays and carried Drew inside in his arms.

      ‘I need to see Jessica Rae right away.’

      The receptionist looked up, her face unfamiliar. ‘Can you give me your details, please, sir?’

      ‘Jessica Rae—I know she’s on duty tonight. I want her to check over my son.’

      The receptionist plastered a weary smile on her face. ‘Give me your son’s details. I’ll get one of the doctors to see him.’

      Callum felt his patience at an all-time low. ‘Page Jessica Rae for me—now!’

      One of the triage nurses appeared at his side and gave a knowing smile to the receptionist. They were probably used to frantic parents, but it didn’t excuse his behaviour. ‘Come with me, sir, and I’ll start the assessment procedure for your son.’ She reached over and brushed Drew’s fringe out of his eyes, taking in his pale colour and the sheen on his skin. ‘Let’s get some obs.’

      Callum felt himself take some deep breaths as he followed the nurse down the corridor. She was ruthlessly efficient, taking Drew’s temperature, heart rate and blood pressure, then putting some cream on the inside of one elbow to numb the area and prepare it for a blood sample to be taken. As she scribbled down Drew’s history, then held a sick bowl to let him retch into it, she gave Callum a tight smile.

      ‘I know you asked for Dr Rae, but she’s in surgery right now. She will see your son, but he needs some other tests done and some blood taken in the meantime. I’m going to ask one of the other doctors on duty to see Drew right now.’

      There was something in the way she said the words. The quiet urgency in them. As if she suspected something but wasn’t prepared to say it out loud. She had that look about her—the nurse who’d seen everything a dozen times and could probably out-diagnose most of the junior doctors.

      ‘What do you think’s wrong?’

      She gave the slightest shake of her head. ‘Let’s leave that to the doctors, shall we?’

      He tried his best not to erupt. To tell her that he didn’t want his son to wait a second longer.

      She glanced at him as she headed to the curtains. ‘I’ll get the other doctor now. The sooner Drew is seen, the better. Then we can get him some pain relief.’

      He nodded automatically. Pain relief for his son. That’s what he wanted more than anything. Anything to take the pain away from Drew.

      ‘Dr Rae, there’s a kid with an acute abdomen in A and E. Father is insisting you see him.’

      Jessica pulled off her gown and gloves and dumped them in the disposal unit. ‘Really? What’s the name?’

      ‘Kennedy. Drew Kennedy.’

      She shrugged. She was the consultant on call. She’d see any kid with an acute abdomen anyway. ‘I don’t recognise the name, but tell them I’ll be right there.’

      She gave her hands a quick wash, trying to place the name. None of her friends had a son called Drew. And the surname? Well, there was only one Kennedy that she knew.

      Her stomach gave a little sinking feeling as she rounded the corner into A and E. It couldn’t be, could it?

      No. Not a chance.

      It couldn’t be a nephew as Callum didn’t have any brothers or sisters.

      And Callum would have mentioned something as important as having a son. Wouldn’t he?

      But as she walked over to the curtains she recognised the frame hunched over the little figure straight away.

      She froze.

      She wanted to turn on her heel and run away. She wanted to disappear out of the hospital and take a minute to catch her breath. To try and get her head around the thousand thoughts currently spinning around in her brain.

      But that was the second that Callum looked up. And his relief at seeing her was plastered all over his face.

      She’d seen that look a hundred times. The parent worried out of their mind about their child. Hoping against hope that their worst fears weren’t about to be realised.

      Professional mode. No matter how she felt, or what her questions were, she had to move into professional mode right now. There was a sick little boy to be dealt with.

      She kept her voice steady and calm. ‘Callum? I didn’t expect to see you.’ She picked up the chart, her eyes skimming over the notes and observations. ‘Is this your son?’

      Calm. Rational. That’s how she was hoping she sounded.

      Callum had the good grace to look embarrassed. ‘Yes. This is Drew.’ There was a shake to his voice. He really was scared for his son—he must be. He’d deliberately brought him here and asked for her, even though he’d known she would have questions. ‘He’s five and he’s had a sore stomach on and off for the last two weeks. We’ve been back and forth to the GP with no diagnosis. But tonight he’s much worse.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Sorry. I was going to tell you about Drew at dinner on Saturday.’

      Her brain was still stuck on the ‘five’ part. She tried not to wince as she glanced at the date of birth. Drew was almost the same age as her son Lewis would have been.

      She tried not to let the tight squeeze around her heart affect her. Everything was so unfair. Callum had the little boy she should still have. A little boy he hadn’t even mentioned.

      She took a deep breath and looked over at the little boy on the bed. The junior doctor had done everything he should, but he hadn’t made any provisional diagnosis. Which meant he was stumped.

      ‘Hi, there, Drew. I’m Dr Jessica. Do you mind if I have a look at your tummy?’

      ‘No. Daddy, don’t let them touch my tummy again.’ She could hear the distress in the little boy’s voice. The fear of someone touching a part of him that was already very painful.

      She looked at the chart, making sure he’d been given some analgesia. ‘Hasn’t the medicine helped your sore tummy? It should have made it feel a little better.’

      The little boy shook his head. ‘It’s still sore.’

      ‘Can you tell me where it hurts if I promise not to touch?’

      He nodded. His face was pale. ‘It started in the middle but now it’s over here.’ He pointed to his left side.

      She pointed to the IV in his arm. ‘I’m going to put a little more medicine in here. It will work really quickly and help your tummy.’ She nodded towards the nurse. ‘Can I have point two milligrams of morphine, please?’

      She waited a few minutes until the nurse returned with the syringe and ampule for her to check before administration. She prescribed the dose and signed the ledger before giving Drew the analgesic. She placed her hand on his forehead and bent

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